Dragon Guardian (Drakins of Wyrmarach) (12 page)

Caleb wasn’t sure what resistance they were talking about.
The time Earthside of the dimension had put them out of touch with matters of
the kingdom. They’d have to accept that their mission and that of the Watchers
began to dovetail long ago.
Now, to make the Watchers
recognize their shared goals and then negotiate an agreement with them to
cooperate.

“We really don’t have him.” Ethan assured the men. “Tell me
why we should care.”

The three stood together like a wall of compact muscle
“Haven’t you been listening? He’s guided the resistance behind the scenes on
your behalf all this time.”

That explained the Tracker’s involvement even clearer, a
resistance movement against the established kingdom, such things were treason
made of. Caleb didn’t like the blind spot of knowledge for what issues the
people faced in their absence. He felt something more in the energy patterns
tied between the three of them. “There’s more.”

The three shifted with a discomfort that only comes from
having to admit something awkward or farfetched. “Verucca Toadswizzler, the old
crone, said to tell you ‘He is chosen for the service of your Jaita’me
beloved
Queen’.”

Ethan looked gut punched. “Fuck.”

Verucca Toadswizzler, wizardess, prophetess and supreme
meddler in all things Ethan and Caleb. She was the woman responsible for the
twins both being alive, following obedience to a vision.

By Goddess direction she’d appeared in the perfect timing to
perform as the royal midwife for the birth. She’d refused to kill the second
born royal twin or reveal their correct birth order. She was the most
infuriating female in their lives and her influence always brought trouble and
orchestrated massive change.

Caleb sunk into the couch.
“I can’t think anymore. I’ve got to get something to eat before I have to
dismantle another bomb on my doorstep.”

Ethan fought to contain his desire
to cut her
fucking head off. Yet he concentrated on the gold tassels hanging from the
lamps adorning the Queen’s chamber rather than the burn his muscles would feel
swinging his blade fast and hard.

The glorious sight as steel parted her shrewish head from her
shoulders. How gratifying the sight would be of her blood spurting like a
volcanic flume across the white carpet. And how wonderful the relief would
sound as silence descended from her yapping yammering, never ending criticism.

Queen Obretta jabbed her finger emphasizing her point
stamping her cane on the hard marble floor. “You’re freaks and no one will have
you. You’ll not have reign of this world while there is breath left in my body.

Yet, somehow I’ve managed the impossible, finding two women
for you to marry. Their family evidently values gold more than the rumors about
your birth defect, to sacrifice two of their younger daughters. The first of
you to have issue will be declared King and this whole messy business will be
settled.”

 
“Are you planning on
us bonding with these women?”

“Bonding?
Goddess recognized mating
is fairytale nonsense fed to the “suppressed” masses for a sugar tit.”

She air quoted “suppressed”. Goddess how he hated the air
quotes thing.

“There’s no truth to that prophesy or writings. These females
were selected as breeding stock, nothing more. They’re from acceptable genetic
lines that have had a limited number of recessives. I don’t even care if you
like them.

“You just have to impregnate them, either one of you, either
one of them. They’re
both young
, healthy and not too
disagreeable to look at. The bonus is I’ve been assured they’re both fairly
obedient and tractable as well. The best I can hope for is one of you produces
something I can mold into appropriate leadership material.

“They are in the anteroom, you may meet them or not. But, you
shall marry them at Winter Solstice. I’ve been diligently monitoring them. They
should be fertile, if you do your wedding night duty I can plan for a spring
announcement of issue. I can only hope your freakiness hasn’t made you sterile
as well.”

Ethan wanted to drive his fist into the wall, or maybe her
sneering expression. He spoke through clenched teeth. “We’re not going along
with this charade and we’re certainly not going to marry some docile cows
you’ve picked out for us.”

“You will do as I command or your titles will be stripped
from you…”

Caleb scoffed with a mental arrow to Ethan,
as if that would even matter at this point
.

“And while that might not get your attention. I think you’ve
got a little secret that you might want to continue to keep under wraps, unless
you wish to be a specimen on display.
It’s
one thing
to have your defect rumored about, quite another to have it revealed for
everyone to ridicule.

“I’m sure you’d not enjoy the testing that would be required
to diagnose your mutant shifting pattern, would you? But perhaps they can
figure out a way to separate you into two proper dragons.
Humm?
Shall we give that a go?” She paused allowing the effect of her threat to sink
in. “You’re a two headed freak and you’ll do what I say. Do I make myself
clear?”

Ethan drug his brother
through the side door to shut off the shrill sound of the Queen’s screaming
insults. Best to avoid meeting the two chattel offerings as well. Caleb’s grin
split his face like he’d just been given a birthday surprise.

“You can clue me in at any time what you’re smiling about.
From my perspective we’re up to our eyeballs in females who all want something
from us that we don’t want to give and the one female we’ve got an itch for,
doesn’t want us.”

“Alright my brother, you are evidently distracted by your
lust for the fair Wren. That and dancing to dodge the two maidens who aren’t
“too disagreeable” to look at, to have heard what our gentile mother revealed.”

He did the air quotes thing on “too disagreeable” and
“gentile mother” just to irritate Ethan. Ethan wanted to break Caleb’s fingers
for the cliché dramatics. “You are just wrong on so many levels. Spill it.” He
growled.

“The Bitch Queen just confirmed that there is a prophecy and
writings that address our current situation. We just have to find them.”

“I think a visit to the Watcher’s is long past due.”

“My thoughts precisely.
Let’s see
what our old friend Phargo has to say about the matter. Perhaps he can guide us
to a neutral contact within the Watchers. I have no doubt he’s kept his mind
sharp on the politics of the matter.”

≽
∞
≼

Caleb picked a path
around a pile of rubble. They’d made their way down to an old section of the
underground city. Surprised at the humble circumstances they’d found their
aging mentor. The Solidarian dragon shifter who’d left his position, his status
and even his family to travel to the other side of the veil as their ward and
protector during the early years of their assignment.

He’d trained them, looked after them and in moments protected
them as his own sons while they’d learned to accept their exile and control
their unique shifting pattern in secret. How many years had it been since
they’d seen him? Time had so quickly rushed by.

Caleb glanced at his brother to confirm his thoughts were
traveling a similar road while looking at the weed encrusted walk way and
crumbling steps. Tapping on the door to hear a bellow from within that could
have been either a
come in
or
go away
in its non-descript
behind-the-door echo.

Evidently no one was answering to usher visitors in. He
pushed the wood to ease it open and listened to be greeted by a wheezing fluid
filled cough from the other room. He pushed on through with Ethan behind him.

The coughing gave way to the firm baritone voice he
remembered so well. It’s grumbled roughness dismissing all affection. “It’s
about time you got here. I was about to come and find you both to knock your
heads in.”

Caleb turned the corner into the room and knew their friend
kept company with another that would soon escort him on his journey beyond. His
voice haunted the gaunt husk that’d become the body of the man they once knew
so well.

Standing by his bedside was an ancient woman stooped, gnarled
like a character of a person that defined, crone.
The
infamous
Verucca
Toadswizzler
.

She grinned, “Ah, no doubt even she dragons in heat wouldn’t
have kept these young warriors away. Perhaps they’ve finally discovered the
questions they’ve needed to ask.”

Yes, for the first time in their lives they didn’t have much
else but questions. “We need some answers.” Caleb knew the information was
going to cost them more than gold and in ways that would likely change them
forever.

Another phlegm
filled cough robbed
Phargo of breath before he could ground out. “Good we have much we must speak
about and very little time.”

≽
∞
≼

The first day Wren
busied herself with mindless tasks in the store while her thoughts chewed over
everything she’d been told by the three-- preposterous.

The second day she’d convinced herself it was a totally
ridiculous tall-tale concocted for an obscure reason she wasn’t privileged to.
But no, Wren had ordered Ethan and Caleb out. They’d complied with bristled
intensity and walked away, just walked away. No, more like, stalked away while
glaring daggers at Izzy. They’d not come back.

Wren wasn’t sure if she was madder about the crazy story
they’d told her or that they hadn’t bothered to come back. She fumed. Izzy who
now sat behind the counter had returned to
Salynne’s
each day, not saying anything and allowing Wren time. For all she knew the
woman had sat outside her door each night as well. She’d come close to throwing
Izzy out too.

But a part of her recognized that Izzy had been Wren’s one
true friend even if she’d not been totally forthcoming about her situation.
She’d clung to the fact that she didn’t want their friendship wiped aside with
one morning of complete and utter twilight zone bizarro.

By the fourth day she’d been ready to chalk it all off to a
hallucination over bad sushi. Except it wasn’t a preposterous tall-tale or a
hallucination. Izzy showed up at
Salynne’s
every day in stark proof that the experience if not the facts they’d revealed,
were true.

The fifth
day,
Sunday she’d cleaned
her apartment from top to bottom and put everything away. She’d stopped short
of rearranging storage boxes in the attic. She’d finally stopped, showered and
dropped exhausted into bed, not sure she’d even eaten all day and not caring
that her hair was still wet.

Then by the sixth day she lapsed into a depressed funk.
Waking up with her hair in an uncontrollable cloud of curls and tangles as only
hair that’s been slept on wet can achieve. Wren cried while she took the band
aids off her mostly healed cuts.

She’d passed up on an opportunity to grab life. She’d have to
forget about them somehow. Now she’d dwindle into a boring nothingness of
existence. That lasted two miserable days.

Wednesday dawned and she admitted to herself that she was
never going to be able to forget them. She missed them both in a fierce way.
She’d have to face
it,
she hungered for the sound of
their melodic voices, the intimacy of their touch, the thrill that tingled
through her in their presence.

What they’d told her didn’t seem all that unbelievable any
longer. She was willing to listen to the absurdity of their story and suspend
disbelief just a crack more if it would mean their return. They weren’t, so
she’d have to just go find them. They’d figure a way, between the three of
them, to get past the craziness.

 
“So, do you know where
the two of them are? Can you get them to come back?” It was the first she’d
spoken to Izzy all week. If she could talk to them, now that she was calmer,
maybe there was a way to prove their story.

Izzy opened her mouth to answer just as the front door bell
tinkled.

A woman who looked something like the Lord of The Rings elven
character Arwen dressed up as Lady Galadriel ready for a rennefaire festival
walked in the door. Okay, floated would be a more apt description of the way
she moved.

Her long black hair pulled back from her face by an
intricately woven yet simple crown of hammered wire and gems. Her ears
definitely peaked with points. Fantastic prosthesis or maybe she was a diehard
cosplayer who’d actually had the elf ear surgery.

Ouch
. Wren frowned.
There weren’t any Renaissance fairs being held in the area in October. With an
ethereal grace the woman glided across the floor. Wren noted that Izzy’s mouth
hung open like a star stuck fan girl.

The woman cocked her head, “My chosen daughter, your distress
has called me to this existence.” Her concerned demeanor was inconsistent with
her words and amused smile.

Wren noted Izzy reached over the counter and grabbed a pad of
paper and a pen from the drawer behind the wooden bar.

Who was this person?

“You have a destiny that will unfold in the course of events.
It is enough that you have been set aside as a sentinel to our people to open a
new era and dispensation of time. Choose your inner circle well.” She stared at
Izzy for a long moment before nodding her head in recognition. “As I see you
have already begun to do.”

Wren put her hands on her hips.
What the hell?
“This can’t be happening. This is one of those
prankster things isn’t it? Who set this up?” Wren walked around the room
looking for hidden cameras or microphones.

“I’m being
punked
.” She’d just
cleaned the store from top to bottom over the course of the past week and found
nothing unusual or out of place.

“You’re an actress, right? And as soon as I buy the gag
everyone’s going to pop out and yell ‘Gotcha’, right?” But who would set up
such an elaborate ruse?

The woman turned with a scowl “Be still.” Which
was apparently Goddess-talk
for shut-up.

“I am Gelfin. You’ve made the acquaintance of mine own
lineage sons, Caleb and Ethan. Your journey will be long and fraught with
hardship.”

Wasn’t that how every quest call started out? She’d played D
& D in college, Games always started with ominous sounding calls to action,
same song different verse.

The woman continued. “Sacrifice will be required from all.”

Okay she’d humor them and go along with the gag. Then when
the video rolled they’d see what a good sport she’d been and everyone would get
a guffaw haha laugh. This thing must have taken months to set up. Ethan and
Caleb were probably in on it.

For actors they’d really played up their roles. The stair
thing was quite a risk. Then she thought to the afternoon of sex with them,
well that kind of went over the line. She wanted to smack them. At least if
they were part of this elaborate ruse, they weren’t dragon shape shifters.

While the
Goddess
had been talking she floated over to the fireplace. Wren wished she knew how
the woman did that. Izzy continued to scribble furiously on her piece of paper.

The woman’s voice rang with authority. “Your powers will
manifest in the course of your discovery.” She stretched up to bring down the
decorative sword hanging over the mantle.

“I renew this vestige of authority and office as it once
belonged to your ancestor and former guardian of the people. Learn the heritage
you’re born unto and wield your powers with wisdom and grace.” She turned
handing the sword to Wren.